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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22826956">Hidden in the Shadows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiknSoup/pseuds/ChiknSoup'>ChiknSoup</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ascension Divergence [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Alienist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, I'm not really sure how to tag his character haha, Just all around a darker take, Kidnapping, Kind of a character study, Minor Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Spoilers, Stalking, Violence, but with a different narrative, different POV, this is my first story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:40:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22826956</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiknSoup/pseuds/ChiknSoup</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a burning in Beecham’s chest, almost a rage at the moment.</p>
<p>((A different POV of my story A Fear of Shadows.))</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ascension Divergence [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641058</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hidden in the Shadows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have had this sitting in my drafts for a month now and finally finished it up! I thought it would be interesting to explore the other end of my first story by exploring Beecham's character. There are also major spoilers in this if you have not seen up to episode 9. I hope you enjoy my take on his character!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was a burning in Beecham’s chest, almost a rage at the moment, as he stood over the deceased body. The boy wasn’t his intended victim, but he would have to do as a temporary alleviation from the anger that boiled deep within.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a trap from the start, but he managed to slip by it at the last minute, continuing what he had originally set out to do. The doctor placed that little ward of his at the brothel, dressing him up and parading him around as a means to lure him in, and he would be damned if he said it didn’t work!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sliding the knife back into its sheath, he let out a deep sigh. The boy before him would not be his last victim, as he was certain that there would be more. A craving had been unleashed deep inside of him and he would keep pursuing the fulfillment of that craving until he found something to keep it at bay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sun began to rise on the horizon, illuminating the Statue of Liberty as he rubbed his forehead. Leaving would be the smartest option, as people were certain to be approaching soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there was unfinished business for him and that ward of the doctor’s.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>////</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It started out slow at first, with him approaching the house and observing the windows that overlooked the streets. He often went unnoticed, blending in with the crowds of people and carriages that wandered their way down, living life as they would. There was a day where he looked over at the house and noticed the ward leaving a stable, holding something in his hands and looking frightened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he should. Liars, to Beecham, were not deserving of peace or comfort of mind. It brought a sickening sense of joy to him to know that the mere thought of him held so much power and fear over the boy. To see him look from side to side, sweat beads falling down his face and eyes heavy with bags from a lack of sleep, made him feel like something more than just a killer on the loose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he was a child, he always felt that the control and power over himself had been lost to those that did not deserve it. But Beecham was an adult now, and he would regain that power and control no matter the limits, be it murdering or haunting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ward turned to look behind him, his eyes meeting with Beecham’s for a moment before swiftly walking back inside. He didn’t notice that he had been there, but it was for the better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beecham smiled to himself, turning his attention to the top of the house and seeing a small window open. A woman with black hair leaned her head out, smiling at the fresh air and holding her hands out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned, melting back into the crowd and devising a plan that would surely bring a halt to the investigation being conducted on him.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>////</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are many ways for Beecham to go about getting revenge, such as murdering the young ward or those that lived with him in that house, but he decides its too obvious; predictable, as the doctor would say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s interesting to know and hear what they have to say about him. They speak as if they had known him his entire life, theorizing about things that Beecham knew weren’t true. Having silver teeth? That was the most absurd of them all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beecham also knows that the man who had drawn the sketch of Giorgio’s body was sure to ask the ward about him, wondering what he looked like and if there were any distinct traits. Thinking back on that night, he doubted that the boy would be able to give an accurate description based on how he was behaving. He was frozen stiff, staring at his hand as it caressed his face, heart pounding in his upper neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those that are terrified often do not think straight, giving him an advantage over the doctor and his team. A dizzying sketch made based on descriptions coming from the mouth of a terrified boy would be nothing but rubbish in the eyes of the general public.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mind lingers on the thought of revenge for that night, going through a list of probable and improbable options for him. There are some that he knows he could not bring himself to go through and others that he feels, should there be enough anger inside of him, that he could and would do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A need for proving himself to the doctor is constantly reappearing, flashing with each option he goes through. For months now, he has been reduced to nothing but a killer with a pattern that will eventually be found. Beecham seethes at the thought of reduction, feeling himself sink back into the pathetic child he once was. No power, no control, and no purpose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone acted as if they knew him and he knew for certain that they didn’t. Up until that night at the Slide, Beecham had restrained himself from deviating off his pattern, fearing it would cause an upset in his own stability.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But now, the chains had been broken, and after murdering that younger boy and leaving his body at The Statue of Liberty, he’s determined to catch one thing that got away from him. Ellie Leshka had gotten away thanks to her parents, but he was certain that this ward boy wouldn’t succeed in fleeing.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>////</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His decision was finally made the next day, opting for the easiest and less predictable of them all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beecham decided that he would take the boy. What he would do next even he didn’t know, but the thought of not knowing was pushing him forward. If he himself did not know what he would do, what on Earth would the doctor think?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All he did know is that he would not kill the boy. It would be too easy, as it would only take a simple snap of the neck or a knife to the heart to kill him. There was no challenge to it, but if he were to take the boy, the challenge presented itself in the form of mystery.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of the many ritualistic murders he had committed, perhaps it was time to take an alternative route. It might even relieve the craving that was brewing in his chest and waiting to burst.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There wouldn’t be a need for effort, seeing as the boy was relatively small and frail-looking. As always, the opportunity of him being stronger than he looked was there, but it was the least of his concerns regarding the plan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had to be calculated and precise, just like every other thing he had done in the past. Maybe it needed to be fleshed out more, with details regarding insignificant things being added in here and there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An uncertainty hung around him for the next day or so, his mind stuck on how he would carry it out. Climbing into the room that he saw the window open to would be the quickest way, but the chance of him not being in there was always highly likely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he remembered seeing the boy walk out of a stable, his beady eyes looking right at him for a second. Assuming that the object that was in his hands was a brush, Beecham decided that the stables would be the ideal place for him to take the boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All it would take was a hand clasped over his mouth and the action of dragging him away in the dark and everything would fall into place just as he had arranged for it. Then, the rest of the plan could be filled in along the way, with the exception of a few things, of course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beecham felt like applauding himself. Even if the plan fell through, which he had a doubt that it would, he would accomplish the task of showing and proving that the doctor did not know him. That even with the team of investigators and the encounters with them, he still held the power and control in the situation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If they wished to play a game of cat and mouse, he welcomed it with open arms.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>////</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The night had finally arrived, with the streets clear and the moon shining brightly in its place in the sky. Beecham had decided against wearing his coat and going in his regular attire, knowing that the boy wouldn’t expect it when he struck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His footsteps echoed in the streets, sometimes growing louder than that of the sound of horseshoes. He had memorized a fast path back to his home that morning, searching the area for any others that might be quicker and more convenient. </span>
  <span>No one would notice at his home, brushing it off as company or relatives. Those that lived there faced their own struggles, allowing him the opportunity to carry out his plans in peace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A large fence surrounded the house, engraved with beautiful swirls of metal and a gate that looked like it swung inwards. Peering through the bars, he noticed the boy standing inside of a stable, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was relaxed, eyes not carrying the heavy bags that they did the last time that Beecham had seen him. It was the moment he had been waiting for, planning every essential path needed for what he sought to accomplish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Climbing over the fence with ease, he dropped to the ground with little noise other than the crunch of the grass underneath his boot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A light was on in the stable, casting a warm amber glow over the boy and the horse he was grooming. Beecham stopped for a moment, a wave of hesitation passing over him as he stood there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t figure out why he had stopped, but it didn’t take much for him to get back to moving, making sure that little noise was heard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy laughed softly, shaking his head. His posture was slightly slouched, head leaned to the side as he stepped back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beecham lunged towards him, slamming a hand over his mouth and pulling him back. A rush of adrenaline went through his body as the boy tried to scream, grabbing at his hand and scratching it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could feel the boy bite at his hand twice, digging his heels into the ground in the false hope that it would get Beecham to let go of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chuckling to himself, he leaned down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You thought you could get away, didn’t you?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was very excited to finally finish this! It was incredibly fun to write and explore some alternative routes for episodes 6 and 7! As always, I hope you enjoyed❤</p></blockquote></div></div>
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